


it's almost summer, playing dumber than in fall

by ohmygodwhy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Home Improvement, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Pre-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Teens being teens, bonding thru home renovation babey!, lmao?, sibling hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-28 08:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmygodwhy/pseuds/ohmygodwhy
Summary: “Hey,” he says, leaning over the back of the couch, “can I knock down the wall between me ‘n Vanya’s old room?”“What?” Luther asks, distracted.“The wall,” Klaus repeats.(alternatively: vanya went to college and klaus said "move, i'm gay")





	it's almost summer, playing dumber than in fall

**Author's Note:**

> this is so........ridiculous and self-indulgent and prob doesn't fit w the timeline of the show but it's been a rough week so do i care? not at all.
> 
> based on a post i saw (tht i can't find rn) talking abt how klaus' room is bigger currently than it was in the flashbacks and how vanya doesn't seem to have a place to sleep @ the house so.....klaus rly said 'thanks it's mine now'

 

Vanya left as soon as she could, the end of the January after they all turned eighteen: off to college, halfway through the school year, even though none of them had any real high school experience or GPA. Klaus thinks that maybe Dad paid the way for her, room and board and tuition and whatever, and Klaus thinks that may have been the single best thing their father has ever done for Vanya. Maybe the only good thing, other than not making her learn to gouge someone’s eyes out with her fingers.  
  
The room next to his is left vacant and empty. It makes him feel… something, not hearing the violin next door; it was always something to cool the nerves, shut the dead up a little bit, after she got a little better and every other note wasn’t screeching and shrill. So he’s alone in that little corner of the house, and he still has a smaller room than Luther or Allison and it doesn’t usually bother him too much — he’s always thought, trying to keep things Positive, that if he had more space that would also mean there was more space for ghosts to crowd into, so, see, he was actually better off in a smaller room — but he’s thinking about it one day, how his room is the same size as Vanya’s and what that must mean in the eyes of their shit heel dad, etc etc. He doesn’t much care about that last bit anymore (maybe it makes him sad sometimes, or angry, but he couldn’t give less of a shit about trying to make dear old daddy proud of him at this point) but the part about the room next to his being vacant and ready for the taking floats around his head for a while.  
  
Vanya’s gone, and from the way she left and the way all her shit is nowhere to be found, it seems like she’s never coming back, so it’s not like she’s gonna miss it.  
  
He kinda wants a bigger room. And it’s basically free real estate.  
  
Mind made up and head somewhere in the clouds, he pulls on some pants and wanders downstairs to find Luther. He’s not gonna ask Dad, and he figures that asking Luther about it will appeal to his Big Number One Ego and possibly win him some brownie points in the future — or it would, if Luther ever got that stick out of his ass. Well whatever, it’s not like he _needs_ permission, but he figures he should at least let Luther no so no one can say he didn’t tell anyone beforehand.  
  
He finds him down in the living room, looking over some important-looking papers spread out on the coffee table. They have a perfectly good library full of desks for just this very reason, but he’s not gonna criticize the big guy right now. Lord knows he’s done worse things on and to that coffee table.  
  
“Hey,” He says, leaning over the back of the couch, “can I knock down the wall between me ‘n Vanya’s old room?”  
  
“What?” Luther asks, distracted.  
  
“The wall,” Klaus repeats.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Luther waves him off, and that’s enough for Klaus.  
  
He goes to ask Ben if he wants to help, but Ben is busy reading — it’s his me-time, like how taking long baths and practicing putting on bright red lipstick is Klaus’ me-time, and Ben hardly gets any of that with Dad and Luther breathing down his neck so Klaus does the nice thing and leaves Ben to whatever it is he’s reading. That boy devoirs whatever he can get his hands on, so it really could be anything.  
  
So, he knocks on Diego’s door instead. When Diego doesn’t answer, he knocks again.  
  
“Hey, Diego,” He says. And then again, louder, “Diego!”  
  
“ _What_?” Is the gruff response, and Diego yanks his door open, looking all ruffled and grumpy. As per the usual.  
  
“Oh, did I wake you up?” Klaus asks, vaguely apologetic but not really.  
  
“Yeah, asshole,” it doesn’t have much bite to it, what with Diego rubbing at his eyes and all, “What d’you want?”  
  
Klaus tries and fails not to beam, which makes Diego immediately suspicious. “You wanna help me knock down the wall between my room and Vanya’s?”  
  
Diego blinks at him. “What?” He says, and sounds so remarkably like Luther for a moment that Klaus almost laughs.   
  
“The wall,” he repeats, an echo of his other convo, “Vanya’s obviously not using it anymore, and I want a bigger room."

"Are you high?" Like that's even a question anymore, or relevant at all.

"Luther said I could knock it down," Klaus ignores him.  
  
“Really,” Diego says, and he sounds like he doesn’t believe him at all but he also sounds intrigued; yeah, he was the right person to ask, Klaus thinks, he’s all about the physical shit.  
  
“Well, he wasn’t really _listening_ when I asked,” Klaus admits, “But he said ‘yeah, whatever’ so I’m takin’ it.”  
  
“Did you ask dad?”  
  
“Fuck no,” Klaus grins, and that’s when he knows he’s got Diego — Number Two might hate Dad more than he does, and he’s always been the type who’s willing to show it.  
  
Where Ben falls back and Luther never questions him, Diego looks him in the eye and says what he thinks. He acts out — in different ways than Klaus does, obviously, because Klaus doesn’t think he’d ever catch Diego at a college party or like, a pride parade, and the thought makes him laugh — and lashes out and it never moves their father because their father is unmovable, but it sure as hell makes him fun to hang out with.  
  
Diego pretends to consider it for a moment, leaning against his door frame, and then sighs, overplaying it just a bit. And people says Klaus is dramatic.  
  
“Sure,” He says, “I guess I don’t have anything better to do.”  
  
Klaus doesn’t try to hide his smile, this time, and claps his hands together in excitement. “Perfect! I think there’s a sledgehammer or something out in the shed we can use.”  
  
“A sledgehammer.”  
  
“Uh, yeah, to knock the wall down. We can’t do it with our bare hands, y’know.”  
  
Diego seems to consider this for a moment, and shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, okay.”

 

“So, do you actually have a plan for this or are we just... going in?”  
  
They found two sledgehammers in the shed out back that doesn’t look like it’s been entered for Years, not since he and Allison snuck in to find some garden tools because they wanted to see if they could grow a watermelon from all the seeds they spit out during lunch one day. Klaus asked her if she could use her Rumor thing to make the watermelon grow, and she said she didn’t think it worked like that, and he’d asked why not? and she said because a watermelon isn’t a person, duh!  
  
Mom had caught them digging up the petunias to make room for their future watermelons, and instead of telling Dad, she helped them pat the dirt down solid after they buried them and then fetched a watering can for them. She rushed them to the bathroom, afterwards, and told them to tidy up and throw their dirty uniforms in the laundry before their father got home from wherever he was. The watermelon never did actually grow, probably because it was the middle of fall and both of them forgot to keep watering the seeds after about three days, but Klaus looks back on the day fondly. He kinda wants some watermelon, now. Maybe he’ll ask Diego to drive him to the grocery store or something.  
  
Anyways, the point is they found the tools, and Klaus spent five minutes picking everything up off the floor and piling it on his bed to make room for all the hard work they’re about to do. They’re standing there, staring at the wall in front of them, strangely hesitant to start.  
  
“Well,” Klaus says. “I figure we can just put all the wall-debris shit in some trash bags and toss ‘em out the window, so we don’t have to carry it downstairs.”  
  
“That’s not what I asked,” Diego says, and Klaus rolls his eyes.  
  
“I’ve watched a ton of like, house renovation fixer-upper shows. They knock down walls all the time. How hard can it be?”  
  
“What if the roof caves in or something? You wanna take the whole house down?”  
  
He doesn’t necessarily sound opposed to the idea, which makes Klaus laugh.  
  
“The roof’s not gonna _cave in_ , Diego. It’s just one little wall. It’s not like we’re taking out the basement.”

"Should we turn off the electricity so we don't get fucking electrocuted or something?"

"I'm sure we'll be fine."

He must sound more confident than he feels, because Diego sighs, tilts his head and says, “Fuck, okay. But if the roof crushes us or some shit, I’m blaming you.”  
  
“Consider me blamed. Now, let’s knock this shit down! God, I’m gonna have so much more wall space. Maybe I’ll get a ‘say no to drugs’ poster.”  
  
“Jesus,” Diego breathes, but by then Klaus is already swinging the hammer back and going in for the first hit.  
  
Klaus will admit that’s it’s more work than he expected. It’s not that hard to like, break through the wall, because it’s an old house and drywall and plaster aren’t that sturdy anyways — Luther has put an accidental fist through quite a few walls over the years, and one time Klaus convinced Ben to slide down the stairs with him one one of their mattresses and they put a dent in the drywall where they couldn’t stop on time. Dad had been pissed, but Klaus had thought it was hilarious.  
  
Ben finds his way in about halfway through, eyebrows raised so high they might fly off his cute little face. “You were serious?” he asks.  
  
“When am I not?” Klaus answers, and then says “Don’t answer that,” because he’s not in the mood to be called out.  
  
“Wow,” Ben says, and then cracks a smile, “You’re crazy, Klaus. Dad’s gonna have a fit.”  
  
“I asked Luther!” Klaus laughs, wiping some white powdery shit off his face. “Shit, maybe we shoulda worn goggles or something.”  
  
Diego, who’s been busy trying to blink some drywall out of his right eye, says “No shit.”  
  
“I think I might I have some in my room — they’re like, for swimming, not knocking down walls, but they might help.”  
  
“That,” Klaus says, pressing his hand against his heart, “Would be so kind of you.”  
  
So Ben fishes some goggles out of his closet (he went through a small, quiet phase of wanting to be a swimmer, but it turned out that giving a Lovecraftian-esque monster unfettered access to a giant pool of water didn’t go over well for anyone; Ben could hardly control the pesky thing, which looked even fucking freakier than usual without a shirt on, and wound up sadly giving up). They get back to work, he and Diego, with Ben settling in on the pile of clothes on Klaus’ bed, new book propped up on his knees.  
  
Allison gets home at some point — Klaus didn’t really know she was out to begin with, but he hardly knows the comings and goings of his dear siblings anymore — and must hear all the commotion, because she pops her head in and then says, “Klaus, what the hell?”  
  
Klaus pulls the goggles off his eyes and snaps them onto his forehead. Ben winces in sympathy, but Klaus is so pumped up on adrenaline that he hardly notices. “I’m making my room bigger!”  
  
Allison’s perfectly plucked eyebrows furrow together, “But Vanya’s…”  
  
She trails off when she remembers that Vanya hasn’t lived at home for about a month now. Her lips pull down into a small frown; Klaus didn’t really know she cared so much, but he pushes the thought from his mind. This is a pivotal moment.  
  
“It’s free real estate,” he says happily.  
  
“Plus, your room is huge,” Diego, who hasn’t removed his goggles and is still standing there, hand on his hips, looking like a weird mix between an Olympic swimmer and a construction worker, “so you can’t say shit.”  
  
Klaus is oddly touched. Yeah, Diego might just enjoy hitting things with a big hammer enough that he doesn’t want to stop, but it’s still sweet of him.  
  
“I asked Luther,” Klaus adds. Playing the Luther card might be a little low, but it almost always works. Allison’s frown doesn’t disappear, but it does soften a little. Case in point. Plus, Klaus thinks she’s always had a soft spot for whatever messy shit he managed to get into. You never forget watermelon solidarity. “You wanna help?”  
  
She glances at the sizable hole they’ve made in the wall. Pretty much everything below shoulder level has been taken out. The window is open, three garbage bags full of plaster and wood and shit are piled up on the side of the building, but no one needs to know that.  
  
“I think you’ve got it covered,” she smiles, just a bit. Amused more than anything, but Klaus does live to please. “Come get me when you’re done, though.”  
  
“You gonna help me with my interior design?” Klaus asks, more hopeful than he means to be. He hasn’t spent quality time with Allison in like... well, in a _while_ .  
  
“You won’t know what to do with a room this big. You’re gonna need some guidance.”  
  
Klaus doesn’t know whether to laugh or be vaguely offended, so he decides to do both. “My interior design skills are impeccable. Do you know how much MTV I’ve watched in my life?”  
  
“Not as much as I have,” Allison says, and Klaus’ laugh follows her down the hall to her own bedroom.

 

Luther finds them just as it’s starting to get dark. At this point, they’re pretty much done. Diego dragged in a chair from his bedroom so they could knock down the bits nearest to the ceiling, where none of their eighteen year old asses could reach. Diego grumbled a lot as he did it, cause he didn’t like admitting he was still short, and Klaus had teased him enough to get shoved but not enough to make Diego leave.  
  
So they’re standing there, observing their handiwork, drywall and white powder and all the other shit that’s in old-ish walls all over the floor and all over their clothes and all in their hair — Klaus’ hair at least, because he still has that big mop of curls on his head he hasn’t cut back yet — and a big, gaping hole where the wall used to be. Vanya’s old room is plain and empty, but Klaus is gonna fix that real soon, as soon as he gets some more fairy lights and probably some new curtains. He’s wondering what color he should paint the walls, thinking that Allison’ll probably know, when Luther walks in an audibly gasps.  
  
Klaus glances over at him, utterly pleased with himself — they did it all in a day! — smiles, and says “Hey, Luther.”  
  
Luther looks back and forth between he, Diego, Ben, who’s sitting on the bed and looking all nervous, and the space where the wall used to be. He makes this real constipated face, the one he makes when he just doesn’t know what to say, or is thinking of just the right way to sound completely and absolutely like Dad and ruin everyone’s good time.  
  
He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “Klaus,” he says, “What the hell did you do?”  
  
Klaus gestures at his newly expanded bedroom, “I knocked down the wall.” Luther opens his mouth again, but Klaus cuts him off before he can yell or something, “You said I could.”  
  
Luther looks absolutely scandalized. “Excuse me?”  
  
“I asked you earlier. I was like ‘hey, Luther, dear brother of mine, may I please knock down the wall between my two bedrooms?’ And you were like ‘yeah sure,’ which I took to mean ‘yes, absolutely you can’.”  
  
Luther has gone from scandalized to horrified, eyebrows drawn up like he’s trying to remember whether or not this actually occurred, and gasping when he remembers that it did. God, Klaus thinks, but Luther is gonna be the absolute death of him someday. He tries so hard not to burst out laughing. The poor guy looks so horrified with himself it almost makes Klaus feel sorry for him. Almost.  
  
“C’mon, big guy,” Klaus says, tossing his goggles onto the bed and wiping at his powdery nose, “It’s no big deal, I just wanted a bigger room.”  
  
“Klaus, you knocked down a wall.”  
  
“Yeah, one little wall. Look, Dad’s not even gonna notice.”  
  
Luther does not looks convinced, and Klaus raises his eyes to the heavens. If there is a god looking down on them all, he prays, please let them be on his side, here.  
  
“Look, I won’t tell him if you won’t. We just gotta clean up the floor and then we’re all good!”  
  
“We?” Luther asks, and there’s the Luther Klaus knows and doesn’t always love!  
  
“By we, I obviously mean me. And Diego, since he helped.”  
  
Diego scoffs, but, as he is also covered in plaster and still holding a hammer, doesn’t refute him. Even though Klaus knows he wants to, just because it’s Luther. Thank god for the little things.  
  
Luther appears to think about it long and hard. If Klaus didn’t know any better, he’d he was just playing it up like Diego did earlier, but this is Luther. It’s just how Luther like, thinks about things: like he’s an actor in a silent movie, trying to convey to the audience that he is, in fact, thinking long and hard.  
  
Eventually, he sighs, seeming very put-upon. “Okay,” He says, sounding very defeated and unfairly exhausted, likes he’s the one who’s been building up his big-hammer-swinging muscles all day. “I won’t tell Dad. But you’d better clean this up before he sees it, because I’m not covering for your ass.”  
  
Klaus figures that’s the best he’s gonna get, and does his very best to show over-exaggerated gratitude. That’s just how you do it with Luther. “Thank you, brother of mine,” he says, pressing his hands together and bowing his head. Luther shakes his head a little — he’s never seemed to be very fond of Klaus and his antics, not like Allison or, grudgingly, Diego — and turns to leave.  
  
“Klaus,” he says, glancing back at him.  
  
“Yes, dear leader?”  
  
“Don’t knock down any more walls.”  
  
He sounds just as serious and ridiculous as he did the time when Klaus got his hands tattooed and he told him not to get the alphabet on his chest to complete the ouija board look. Klaus bites his lips hard, and nods.  
  
“Course not. Thanks, Number One.”  
  
He waits until Luther lumbers down the stairs before he celebrates.

“Job well done, everyone,” he says, and sends a silent thank you to Vanya for going to college. If she ever needs to like, visit, he’s sure she can just bunk with him for a night or two.

 

Dad doesn’t notice for maybe a whole week. They’re all sitting there at the dinner table, waiting for their shitty father to make an appearance so they can eat, and he walks down the stairs and says, “Number Four, what in _god’s_ name have you done to your bedroom.”  
  
Klaus immediately bursts out laughing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i read the wiki how article on knocking a wall down after the fact and realized i followed approximately one (1) of the steps, but if i can extend my disbelief for a talking monkey u can extend yours for this. comment to help a gay out i'm goin through it rn! and come [talk to me](http://gaynasas.tumblr.com/) abt these fools


End file.
